#gets sloppy at the end because I’m sick of writing this

[silkythewriter]

Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?

“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”

Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.

Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Louise (Louise)

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

Louise (Louise)

Not even if she likes the way you dance

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.

Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!

He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.

Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.

But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.

Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.

At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.

But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.

At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.

The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.

You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.

“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”

He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.

So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.

He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.

Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.

If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.

Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.

He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.

Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.

He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.

Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.

Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.

He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.

At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.

His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.

But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)

Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.

Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you

The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?

In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.

He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.

Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.

“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.

Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.

Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.

Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.

In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.

He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.

Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!

He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.

Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.

Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/

[visualbutterflysworld]

Forgive me? | Vhackerr

When reader and Vinnie get into a bad argument things seem to take a turn for the worse when vinnie says something he shouldn’t. Could this be the end or could this just become the beginning of a true relationship?

I low key had a dream about this type of scenario like years ago and randomly thought of it so :P also probably sloppy writing

“That’s so fucking stupid!” Vinnie screams at me. Vinnie and I had been dating for about 5 months now. We usually don’t fight. I mean not like this. We were fighting about us and what we were. If I said me and him were just friends he’d flip but if I’d ask to post about us he’d deflect.

“It’s not! You should understand about how I feel! I just want the world to know about us! That’s it!” I scream. “Yeah, because you want your fifteen minutes of fame! Such a fucking leach like everyone else!” Vinnie yelled back. I stand there with disbelief. He for real just said that.

Vinnie huffs before he realizes what he has said. “Y/n-” “No, fuck you, Vincent! You think I’m with you because you’re some fucking celebrity?! I’m with you because I love you! Because I love you more than I love myself! More than life itself! I was willing to wait till you were ready but I’m sick of waiting! I’m sick of feeling like I’m some fucking monster that you have to keep hidden from the world but, you know what, since you think that poorly on my character then we shouldn’t let the world know! We shouldn’t let the world know that we had any sorta of connection because we’re fucking done!” I scream at him. I quickly grab the rest of my stuff before heading towards the door.

“I’ll have somebody come get the rest of my shit. Please fuck off you entitled dick!” Is the last thing I shout before slamming the door. The rest is a blur. One minute I’m in the hallway of his building and next I’m sitting on my bathroom floor crying my heart out to my mom.

“Honey, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m sure right then and there he would’ve said I love you too.” My mother says as I sob quietly. I told that asshole I loved him. Can you believe that? I’m not sure I meant it but my heart is telling me I did. I told him we were over but, I don’t want it to be over. I get a notification from my phone.

Instagram

Vinnie Hacker has posted on their story

“Yeah, I got to go mom. I’ll talk to you later.” I said and quickly hang up. It takes all my will power not to click on it immediately but my hands seem to have a mind of its own. I click on his story.

My hand instantly goes to my mouth. He posted me. He called me his girl. That asshole. I hear my doorbell ring and I know who it is. I quickly get onto my feet and go to my door. I open it and there he is. My favorite flowers and food in hand. I look up at him and he seems like he can’t maintain eye contact but he does anyways.

“I’m so so so sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I called you that. That was wrong. Very wrong of me. I don’t assume that you’re with me because I’m well me. I know that. I’ve been known that..just I fucked up because that’s what I do. I fuck up anything good in my life because I’m afraid of being hurt. You’re too good for me and I honestly don’t deserve you but, I posted you on my story so now you’re like kinda force to be with me anyways. I mean I’ll grovel if you want but, fuck I can’t let you go! I’m sorry and I love you! I mean…I think I love you more than you love me but-”

“Vincent!”

He blinks for the first time in 3 minutes. “Yeah?” “You should probably come inside before my food gets cold.” I smile softly at him. He lights up instantly and quickly makes his way inside. He sets the flowers and food down before turning to me. “I’m really sorry! We can go slow! We can start over and pretend this fight never happened like now we’re officially dating or something!” I run up and hug him. “Vinnie, we’re okay.” I kiss him quickly and his face follows mine as I lean away. “I mean…you’re gonna have to do some major groveling if you want to be my boyfriend again but I think we’re still dating.”

He smirks, “that’s fine by me.”

This was so trash but I’m sick and wanted to post something so :P

[itsabouttimex2]

Since ROTTMNT are allowed, how about some headcanons of the turtles with a reader who’s very reckless? They’re always throwing themselves into danger whenever the team is fighting, and reader just insists they’re trying to help.

also love your writing ❤️❤️

Turtles with a Reckless Y/N

(Thank you so much💗 I’ve been watching season two, and I’ve got a lot of thoughts!)

No. No, no, no. Raphael does not tolerate your shenanigans. He’s worried sick about you every time you try something new, you hear him? Expect lots of gruff lectures about how ‘You need to learn to work with me and the others as a team, or you’re staying home with Splinter!’

This is not an empty threat. Keep pushing and getting reckless, Y/N. Realizing that he’s going to have to teach you a lesson the hard way, Raph sneaks up behind you as you try to sneak out, wrapping you into his arms.

“Sorry, Y/N- but I did warn you,” he says, carefully binding you up in sloppy knots. After he’s got your wrists and legs tied, he wraps a blanket around you. Then, another round of rope. Raph plops you onto Splinter’s chair, grabbing the remote and turning on a safety awareness video he (with the help of everyone in the Turtlefam) made for you.

This isn’t necessarily going to be a one time thing, though. The ante is upped every time you make another boneheaded decision, another grounding, another lecture, another video. He’ll get through to you.

Eventually.

Leo can be arrogant and overconfident himself, so he’ll relate to the things you do and say. It’s easy to want to prop you up and encourage you. He’s suffering from an inferiority complex, trying to make up for his self-perceived shortcomings by acting like he’s better and stronger than the people around him.

And he wonders if maybe you’re going through the same thing with the way you insist that “I’m just trying to help, Leo,” and “I don’t need you to baby me!”

And then Leo starts to think that telling you off for the way might only make things worse. For all he knows, you’ll decide that getting even more reckless will be the way that you finally ‘prove yourself’, making the same boneheaded approval-seeking decisions that he does.

In the end, he decides to settle things by subtly sabotaging your efforts to join fights. Leo “accidentally” locks doors before you can run through, sneaks your gear into dark corners where you’ll take too long to find it, taking extra risks to try and end fights before you can join.

It’s for your own good. Please believe him when he says that.

With poor communication skills and a potential developmental disorder that only muddles his understanding of others further (same, bud), ‘talking it out’ is not an option for Donnie.

So he turns to the one thing he knows best- tech. A tracker first. Then two. Then three. Eventually he’s got a dozen tracking devices in all different shapes and sizes, each one snapped into a different device or gadget.

It’s not that he wants to hurt you, of course not.

But if an electrical shock or painful squeeze can “convince” you to keep out of danger and think things through before you hurtle headfirst into an enemy’s unmerciful hands… fine. Fine.

Donnie will snap a bulky metal cuff around one of your wrists, sighing as he does. Does this make him the “bad guy”? Probably. But he’s fine with that, because being “bad” is better than being at a funeral. He’ll muster up a half-hearted apology, sighing as he locks the metal around you.

“Enough with the reckless stunts, Y/N. You’re keeping this on until I know you’ve grown a functioning brain.”

Big-hearted and equipped with a somewhat gentle demeanor, Mikey decides to try talking things through first. It’s very possible that this problem is some kind of misunderstanding that could just be unraveled with a little bit of one-on-one time!

Sure, he probably doesn’t have to cuddle up to you and wrap you both in blankets with hot drinks, but he does anyway! (Because he wants to steal you away for a moment to have all to himself, under the guise of ‘helping you’.

There’s an admitted half-effort from Mikey to talk you through whatever it is that’s causing you trouble, at least. It’s just that he’s more focused on the ‘therapy’ approach, hoping that he can grow closer to you while keeping you content and out of danger for the moment.

Though, if you really insist on such reckless behavior, Mikey always has his kusari-fundō to wrap you up head to toe. Given his status as the ‘baby’ of the family, no one is going to take his behavior all too seriously.

You’re stuck tight, helpless against his loving, brotherly whims.

[sturnlova]

We have no alone time

(Chris Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, new to writing, not proof read all the way)

( Word count : 737)

( Send requests!!!)

Y/N POV:

Me, Chris, Matt and Nick were in the car driving to target as Nick said he “needed” to get a weighted stuffed animal because seeing me and Chris together made him suicidal. Me and Chris just giggled due to Nicks dramatic ass sentence.

We were around 5 minutes away from target, Chris had his hand on my thigh reaching higher to my dripping pussy. Luckily no one saw it as Chris made Nick sit in the front with Matt.

Matt had finally pulled in the parking lot and i knew i wasn’t gonna be able to last over 10 minutes without having Chris in me, and Chris knew this so he made an excuse for us to stay in the car for we could have our fun 😉. “Matt, Y/N isn’t feeling that well can we just stay in the car, just pass us the keys and we will lock it for you.” Chris spoke lying through his teeth. The oldest brother and the middle child looked at me and then his youngest brother and threw us the keys to walk off to target.

I knew this was the right opportunity, i wasted no time to straddle Chris’ lap. “ So needy aren’t we, making me lie to my brothers for i can fuck you in the car that our family and our friends sit in?” Chris’ words just made me more wet as the seconds went on.

I took his belt off along with my tiny black shorts, didn’t need to worry about underwear as i wasn’t wearing any because i claimed to Chris that i needed fresh air. The blue eyed boy pushed 2 fingers in me without a warning but who was i to complain i was begging for this. I moaned his name repeatedly as his fingers went faster in me.

I stopped Chris mid way and holy shit was he confused. He asked me if something was wrong and if i wanted him to stop. I told him i just need his cock in me and i knew he needed my pussy due to the big tent in his pants at this point. He put his pants ankle length and slipped his length in me easily as i was stretched and wet.

“ fuck f-fuck Chris i’m so close don’t stop, ugh fuck “ i moaned repeatedly along with whimpers due to me barely able to keep my composure, Chris just kept going kissing my cervix with his pink tip as he grunted in my ears. I could see his dick in my stomach, it just turned me on even more. Chris saw his dick in my stomach and pressed down on it to make lose it even more.

His thrusts got sloppy, he knew i was about to cum and i knew he was close. i begged for him to let me cum. Chris spoke with no patience “ cum on my cock now, i want to see you finish.” I couldn’t resist it so i finished along with him. Our faces had pleasure written all over it as his cum dripped out of me onto his bare thighs and the sweat rolled down our foreheads. Chris noticed that our cum was getting on him and used his middle finger to shove it right back in, i was so fucking sensitive i just yelped out as i was so sensitive.

He put my black shorts back on me and pulled his pants back on in a hurry as we saw Matt and Nick walking back to the car. We readjusted ourselves in the seats as Chris unlocked the car for his older brothers can get in.

As soon as Nick and Matt both sat down and put music on Nick yelled in fear like it was the end of the world “ YOU GUYS FUCKED IN HERE Y/N ISNT SICK ! YOU MONSTERS PLEASE TELL THERES NOT A MESS AND THAT YOUR GONNA CLEAN THE CAR EWWWWWWWW” me and Chris bursted out laughing and matt just screamed along with nick adding on to his points.

Me and Chris side eyed each other until Chris said “ there wont be a mess because i pushed it right back up in her pretty pink pussy 😊 “ i smacked Chris’ chest to tell him to shut up. “ To be fair we have no alone time we had to fuck somehow” I said adding to the conversation. Matt said “ please shush i don’t wanna hear about how you guys fuck and what y/n pussy looks like.” Matt started driving in a hurry to get out the car soon as possible. Me and Chris just held hands all the way home knowing we were going for round to in the shower…

(i hoped you guys liked that and i pray for requests guys!!)

[hamlets-ak]

his last letter ༊*·˚

masterlist ◦ askbox

synopsis: regulus writes you a letter before he goes to the cave

My Dear Y/N,

If you are reading this, it’s too late for me.

I am writing you from my room, at 12, Grimmauld Place. My doom is hanging on my neck like a rope. It’s heavy and unbearable. I can already feel it dragging me down.

That night, that I sneaked out just to meet you, I gave you a promise, that I was going to change, that I was going to be good. You said you loved me either way and nothing mattered to you.

It mattered to me though, because I wanted to be good. I wanted to do the right thing. The time has come to keep my promise and be good. And if the right thing is going to cost my life, then so be it.

Y/N, my dear Y/N, I need you to know that I’ve changed. I need you to know that I did the right thing, that in my last moments on this earth, I was good.

I am writing to you determined to do what I have to. Y/N, my heart, please forgive me.

I wish I never had to write this letter to you, but I know that my road has no return. It’s not just me being pessimistic, no. I can feel that this is not going to end well for me, for us. The earth has prepared a deep and narrow place for me and I can do nothing but get in.

Please forgive me for not meeting you tonight. Forgive my sloppy handwriting. Forgive fate. Forgive Kreacher, the bearer of the bad news, and please don't be mad at him. Forgive me.

If I regret one thing in this life Y/N, is not giving you more kisses, not hugging you tighter, not saying « I love you » every minute of every day.

Light of my eyes, a million hearts wouldn’t be able to carry my love for you. I love you unfathomably, no words can describe it. If only you could jump into my body for only a few seconds, you’d see for yourself. But I would never let you. I love you too much for this. You are everything to me.

You were the first person that made me feel truly loved. I know, my brother loves me too, or at least he tries to. I don’t blame him for taking his distance. After all the things I’ve done, I feel disgusted in my own skin. But you… how could you not be disgusted? How could you not leave me? How could you be there for me? How could you love me? People like me don’t deserve to be loved. I wouldn’t love me... I don’t love me; myself, what I am.

The only times I’ve ever loved myself are the ones spent with you.

You made me feel like I wasn’t as bad as I thought. I had a good side, I wasn’t always as menacing and misanthropic as everyone believed me to be. With you I felt like a person, normal, I wasn’t a burden. You truly did love me and your love made me beautiful. Honestly, I’m still not sure why you loved me like that. But I know you did. I could feel it every day, even in our worst moments.

I need you to know, you are the one and only for me, and you will always be. No matter what happens to me tonight, my soul will always be with you. I will always be yours. You will be my last thought, and my last breath will be your name.

I love you.

I’m afraid that you’ll forget me. Me, and everything we did together, everything we were.

Please, think of me sometimes. But not the bad things; the fightings, the tears, the sadness, the fear… think about the good things.

Do you remember the night after that stupid Ravenclaw party? I was pissed. I could barely walk and, oh Merlin, I was so, so dizzy. You couldn’t stop laughing watching my anarchist side come to the surface, as I was going up and down in front of Dumbledore’s office. I thought it’d be hilarious if we managed to get inside and burn the place to the ground. Well, we didn’t do that, obviously. From walking so fast, I ended up sick, vomiting in front of the gargoyle. I could still listen to your voice, as I was holding my knees, letting my guts out, and your laugh — I love it so much when you laugh. You then walked beside me, pulled my hair back, looked me in the eyes, and kissed me. I was staring at you like an idiot because I was too drunk. You smiled and then hugged me with your warm hands, your smell being the only thing I could sense.

That was the moment I first realized you love me. Who else would kiss the lips of a person that was vomiting only seconds ago?

I’ve never told you, but until now I’ve been thinking of that moment. Why would you be so kind to me? To me, of all the people on this Earth. And how can you love me?

Remember this time I was crying so hard without a reason, and I was just so angry that I was kicking the bathroom door and I was completely out of control? That day was terrible. I was hitting the wall so hard that my fist started to bleed. You had never seen me like that and I knew you were scared of me, but you hugged me tightly and didn’t let me go until I calmed down.

I asked you that day, why didn’t you leave me alone? Why did you have to be there? You said that you loved me so much nothing could drive you away. When you left I cried and didn’t go to class.

I was so confused. But I knew one thing, I wasn’t one hundred percent evil like everyone wanted me to believe.

We had so many dreams and plans that will never come true. I should’ve left this whorehouse when I had the chance. I should’ve left with Sirius. If it wasn’t for my ego... And then, when we were done with school, it was foolish of me to stay at my father’s funeral. We could have been in the countryside now, married, away from everyone. I really wanted to marry you, to spend the rest of my life with you.

I’ll stop thinking about that.

You have no idea how much it hurts knowing that you are reading this letter. It feels like a knife twisting deep into my soul.

Please, Y/N, you have to understand why I did this. I had to. I owed it to everyone. I owed it to myself.

I know it’s very selfish. I left you just so I can live up to the expectations I built for myself.

I am never going to see the day that awakens with you ever again, but I hope the light of the world is bright and gentle to you. I hope the people are good. I hope you smile and laugh every day. I hope you think of me sometimes, just once in a while.

My love, my heart, please don’t do anything crazy. Stay alive, do it for me. Live. I need you to keep going. If you love me, keep going. And please, get out of this place. Go to your friends, to my brother and Remus. I don’t want you to be here. And don’t even think about passing by my house.

I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could write you everything but time is running.

Please, know that I am not scared. I am not scared at all. I want to do this. It’s my decision, probably the only one I’ve ever made.

Don’t forget to burn the letter.

It’s so cold here and I can't stop remembering. My heart has no mercy on me.

I love you forever.

R.A.B.

[b3rrymilks]

𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖈𝖙

synopsis ; THIS ENTIRE FIC IS BASED FROM https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Rm5pDA/ (slide 9) PLS READ IT BEFORE READING!! ALL CREDS TO @/candle.wishes ON TT. pt 2

story note ; pure angst. no happy ending. violence, nearing character death. // i added the fact reader got bit by a radioactive spider that only gave them the super strength and ability to stick to walls. no spidey senses.

authors note ; this isn’t proofread, and it’s rushed ☹️ sauryy but I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THIS WHEN MY FRIEND SENT IT TO ME ON TIK TOK! ART CRED : thokzu on tt

pairing ; miles morales (e!42) x fem!reader

LOOK INTO MY EYES.

🕷️. “get up, it’s time.” you’d heard your uncle say. he had pushed your legs from the relaxed position they were propped in. “now?? it’s like 1 am” you squinted at the red analog clock. “stop complaining and get ready, we need to hit this bank before they open.” you uncles cold voice had told you to stop asking questions and to hurry up and get ready.

your uncle was the leader in these big plans, but after recent fuck ups, you were taken from the main plan.

“but why??” you asked, holding your arms out in a confused manner. “because you can’t hold your own, we need you out of the actual action.” your uncle replied, ignoring your presence. “but it’s never been my fault, it’s always—“ your uncle had completely shut your statement down. “but but but? you have YET to complete something i ask you to do. you fail at every little thing. you’re not ready.” he had nearly yelled at you.

your family has been doing this for years, it was only recently when “the prowler” had began disrupting your part of the plans. even though you tried to tell your family it wasn’t your fault the plans went to shit, they never believed you. a week ago, you’d gotten bitten by a strange spider while scoping out the bank. you brushed it off as you were in the middle of escaping the authorities.

you’d gotten an intense increasing to your strength, surpassing your uncle.

the plan went active tonight.

“don’t fuck this up.” your brother warned you before leaving to his role in this. “alright, once your mother hacks the cams and alarm system, we’re in. y/n you’re on lookout. make sure no one catches wind of what we’re doing, got it?” you rolled your eyes at the fact you were lookout, and that your brother took your spot in assisting your uncle with breaking in. “yeah whatever.” you replied through the radio.

minutes of silence passed, it felt like the smallest move and your entire presence would be exposed. perching on the building for lookout, the alarms and cams had finally been hacked. “they’re down, now!” your mother announced through the radio. you watched as your uncle and brother entered the bank. “you only have about 8 minutes before the alarms reactivate and give away what’s happening here, we need to—.” the static had interrupted your moms voice, but before you could take action, a heavy blow came to your stomach.

rolling from the impact, you quickly caught yourself and stood upwards.

“you didn’t think i’d let this go by unnoticed did you?” his voice was changed by the mask he wore.

that stupid mask that he always wore. the holo eyes were slanted, and a light purple color.

“i’m so fucking sick of you!” you yelled at him before charging towards him.

you two both collided by trading punches. yours weren’t as strong due to the heavy hit you’d just taken. sharp pains had shot through your stomach. the adrenaline hadn’t kicked in yet, leaving you in pain.

“i’m not letting you continue this life of crime you seek, not here.” he spoke between every punch he threw. every attack you threw at him, he saw it coming.

you didn’t give up. eventually, his attacks had gotten sloppy, signaling he was tiring himself out. you two had gotten closer to each other, more hits connecting and blood had been drawn.

“just give up already,” he spoke again, watching you catch your breath. in his eyes, he saw your mask was ripped, catching light of your face. little by little.

glaring at him, you’d observed that there were cracks in his mask. “you’re never going to—“ you were sick of his constant mocking, talking and presence in general.

charging at him again, you’d tackled him and took hold of his neck. the adrenaline had finally come, and the pain was now gone. you straddled his waist, pressing your fingers against his esophagus. “i’m so sick of you belittling me. just like everyone in my family.” you seethed at him, watching air slowly leave his body. his claws held onto your wrists, tapping them profusely. “i’m not letting you go this time.” you began laying heavy blows to his mask, feeling it break.

your knuckles had began bleeding. blood hit the ground as you kept punching him, over and over again. you weren’t giving up, he attempted to reach up to your mask, reaching for the remains of it.

as the glass of his mask began to break, it exposed each feature, one at a time. first it cracked near his eyes. brown eyes.

then it began to crack near his nose. his nostrils were flared due to the pain he was enduring.

upon one final blow, the mask had finally completely broken. holding up your fist, preparing for one last blow, you took a look at the boy that had been ruining everything for you.

the claws had now broken, falling to the ground as he held up his hands in defense. his eyes were nearly swollen. blood had trailed down from his nose. his lips were bloodied. his face was decorated with cuts, all which were seeping blood. you relaxed your grip on his throat.

he had began inhaling large amounts of air, as you had completely frozen. he had finally peeled off your mask, revealing your face.

“wh— no, no no no no.” you silently wished it was all just a dream. this couldn’t possibly happen.

you watched miles struggle to breathe, struggle to open his eyes fully, struggle to even move.

“miles?”

“y/n?” through coughs, and broken breaths he still managed to speak.

the boy you dearly wanted to protect. the boy you went to school with. the boy that you always wanted to see in your spare time, the boy you loved. the boy you lived next to, was nearly dead from your hands.

you got up, quickly backing up. everything in your head began spinning. the pain had nearly caught up with you, throbbing had come to your head. you watched him hold his side, still coughing.

“no, no.” was the phrase you kept repeating, over, over and over again. “please.” you begged.

3 HOURS LATER.

you hid in your room, lights off, in complete darkness. hugging your knees close to your chest. the light suddenly turned on, and your uncle and brother came in. “what happened to you?? you almost ruined the entire—“ finally stopping the scolding, he had seen how injured you were. cuts and bruises blemished your skin, and your knuckles. “what happened to you?” the question had more emotion tied to it, as he kneeled down to touch you.

flinching from his touch, you remained quiet. “do you wanna tell me what happened?”

whenever you closed your eyes, all you could see was miles’ bloodied face. before you knew it was him, whenever you closed your eyes, you’d see his smile.

you trembled under anyone’s touch. the pain had died down, leaving you with sudden shots of pain every now and then. you hadn’t washed the blood from your body. you’d raise your shaking, cut open, bloody hands to show yourself what you did to the person you cared the deepest for.

“it was miles.” you silently whispered.

[ashlingiswriting]

do i know you? chapter five

[ 3.5k words ] [ prev chapters: one, two, three, four ] [ masterlist ] "when are you gonna fucking learn?" richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn

you smash your alarm and kick off the sheets muttering fuck you fuck you fuck you in one long vicious chant, heart racing. this is your new wake up routine, it seems. you fight the urge to get up and do something, anything, to save him. anything, no matter how stupid. you get so sick of your own anxiety that you finally turn on a lamp and write him a note, just three sentences, the least number of words you could possibly use to say what you need to say. 

you won’t give it to him, of course. you just had to get it out of your system.

if only richie would die in your dreams, then you could wake and have them contradicted by reality. but in your dreams he is always alive and holding a gun in readiness for tomorrow. no reality can disprove tomorrow. 

though of course, he’s fine. that much is evident as soon as you see him. 

he saunters in complaining about the new host of a local sports station, ted, nasally little bitch, and when you say you never listen to the radio, he calls you a real mcdonald’s number two, you know that?

no, richie, i don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.

and you’re off. no slumping on the concrete, no vacant eyes, no philosophy. 

today’s a bit of show and tell, little lectures exchanged. you start with napoleon and josephine, because any history that’s not about chicago or world war two is news to him. you’ve stocked up on anecdotes with some library books, so you’re going full blast, and richie ends up thoroughly enjoying the batshit french lovers.

still not as good as the boston molasses flood, though, he says.

that’s his favorite of all the stories you’ve told him. twenty-one casualties and he’s charmed, the macabre little bastard.

when it’s his turn, richie shows you a whole album of eva on his phone, the full range of her five years on earth. from the photos and stories, you find out that eva is blonde like her mother, stubborn like her father, and where she got her brown eyes, nobody knows. the great obsession of her life is a cartoon about a family of australian dogs, although if the ipad is denied to her, then dancing, drawing, and doll death rituals are acceptable. 

on a delusional note, you’d like to think that he put the album together specifically to show you. on a slightly less delusional note, he might be showing her to you because you expressed a willingness to kill for her. 

as he flips back in time, eva gets smaller and smaller. there she is sitting in a huge pot. there she is in a tiny lacy hood. there she is lying on his chest with her head tucked just under his chin. 

god, i love babies, you say.

really? his eyes rest on you, half-amused, half-doubtful. 

you raise your chin, tilt challenge. why, do i not exude a nurturing, motherly aura?

nah, you exude—he lingers over the word exude so you know he thinks it’s unnecessarily frilly—the smell of newports and disapproval.

you gesture as if to say, duh. that’s motherhood.

richie half-laughs, half-scoffs. guess it depends on whose mother, he says.

you look at him, venture a question with one quick glance that he chooses not to answer. 

so you really like babies, huh, he says instead, and there’s something so comfortable in it that you reply, yeah, i almost became obstetrician about it. 

there’s a split second of silence before he says, but then? 

goddammit, you’re getting sloppy. that’s as much as admitting to med school.

decided it was too much work, you say. why suffer my way through the mcat and med school and residency when i could just not?

he sucks air through his teeth in agreement. my thought process exactly. otherwise i would’ve become a doctor too.

uh huh. and what kind of doctor were you gonna be?

oh, same as you, he says airily. pussy doctor, doctor of the pussy. turns out no training needed, i’m a natural.

so yeah, richie’s fine. 

it doesn’t stop you from dreaming, but at least now you know.

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another night, you wake up before the dream gets bad, so the dread doesn’t have too strong a hold on you. that’s a much-needed relief. if you’d woken up at your worst, richie’s miserable little face would be setting you off like crazy. 

as it is, you come to stand next to him and say, what’s up? a touch friendlier than usual. this time of winter, the cold bites you anyplace it can: forehead, nose, the place where your glove isn’t properly tucked into your coat. you ignore it. 

tonight fucking sucked, richie says, putting his chest in the last word. we got killed today, absolutely fucking shattered. syd’s digital system broke carmy’s tiny little brain, he went off like a block of fuckin c4, and now we’re down a baker and a sous. 

oof. they both quit?

yup, he says bitterly. 

you expect a string of blame to follow, some insults for syd and marcus, or maybe even a rant against carmy for driving them away. but instead, there’s just silence. not all silences are bad, but this one is. for all his rivers of whinging about millennials and change and syd in particular, you can’t help but get the feeling that he’ll miss them both.

marcus was a good guy, he says eventually. and syd, syd’s not really replaceable.

that one stings, but it shouldn’t. you determinedly ignore it. 

you want to offer comfort, but you’ve got nothing to hand. maybe pride would work? it’s hardly encouraging his better self, but you’ve got no other ideas.

you would never quit, you say.

he exhales smoke slowly. as he does, his eyes don’t move, but they change, and you wish you hadn’t said anything.

nope, he finally says, real quiet, bitter and sad. i never fucking do.

when he’s on his last cigarette, he just chucks the empty package at the trash. it misses, bouncing off the rim and landing on the sidewalk. fuckin a. 

after a second, he stoops, picks it up, and throws the trash away. 

you reach into your jacket and produce a full box of sapphires. glance at him like, two can play at that game, right? he takes one and offers you back the rest. 

don’t insult me, you say, but you say it real nice. 

he nods, lights up, and lapses into silence.

you can feel yourself leveling out with every passing minute he stands by your side. it’s peaceful. it’s deadly cold. he and carmy might be a little fucked tomorrow, but tonight you’re with him. things aren’t good, but they’re good. 

i just don’t know what we’re gonna do, he says.

you shrug. it’s not dismissive, it’s practical. if he doesn’t know what to do, and more importantly, if carmy doesn’t know, then there’s no way you’ll be able to think of any useful suggestions. 

for now? you say. go to bed. 

his sideways look is a question that you know how to interpret.

don’t wallow in it, you say. clarification. you’re not telling him to fuck off, you’re telling him to take it easy. 

he nods. i’m gonna be late tomorrow.

how come, anything fun?

fun, yeah, fun. he scoffs. we’ve got a bachelor party, favor for cicero. bunch of fucking animals, those guys. 

well, don’t be scared, just stick with carmy. he’ll protect you.

and there it is. such a small smile, but you still got one out of him. night.

night. 

once you’re inside, you glance back at him through the glass of the apartment doors, and only then do you notice that he’s limping a little as he walks away. it’s probably nothing, it’s probably a funny story, he wouldn’t— 

shut the fuck up, you mutter, thoroughly sick of yourself, and go upstairs.

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the next night, the dreams get bad and he doesn’t show up. 

the thing that kills you isn’t the cold or the fear or the feverish overanalyzing. no, as the hours pass, you realize: if anything’s happened to him, you’ll have to live with this for the rest of your life. you had so many chances, but in the end you still did nothing. you had so many chances.

when are you gonna fucking learn?

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you wake up on a memory, the way richie rubbed his forehead wearily and said, it was a nice poem. heartsick and sluggish, you turn off your alarm. 

your apartment looks different with sunlight streaming in through your thin curtains, like you accidentally wound up in somebody else’s place. with gold light staining the fake wood table and the weak hanging watercolor, all the default decor, this place looks like a home.

it’s fucking weird. 

then you remember you set an daytime alarm for a reason. 

half an hour later, you’re picked up by a car and dropped at your destination, a tree-wrapped house that looks like it belongs in the suburbs. as you knock on the door, you replace your scowl with a look of neutral attentiveness, completing your transformation into a professional woman: white button down, navy slacks, caffeinated straight to hell. if you’re going to get fired, you can at least do it in dignity.

to your surprise, the door is opened not by a maid, but by alessandra herself. she glances out at the idle street over your shoulder before she says, come in. under any other circumstances, you’d be sweating a little. she’s got the natural grace of a gazelle and the faultless skin of a cover girl. you wouldn’t expect anything less of jack’s wife.

she leads you through the foyer into a sitting room, where linda is waiting, ensconced in a gigantic armchair. it would be a funny sight—with her short height, bouffant blonde hair, and blue eyes, linda makes you want to say, you see this tweety bird looking motherfucker—but richie’s not around to hear you and this is your boss’s wife. you keep it proper with a simple hello.

julie, thank you for coming, linda says, as though the invitation was one you could’ve turned down. can we get you something to drink?

you perch across from her on the sofa. no thank you. 

are you hungry? she says, but she doesn’t wait for a reply, adding to alessandra: the pastries. and a half dozen of the mini quiches. thank you. with that, alessandra is gone.

do you know why you’re here? linda says. 

so—okay. maybe you have been obsessively texting every single contact that you have within the caruso organization, every single night, trying to get any news you can about your carbon monoxide patients. maybe it’s not completely professional behavior. but they’ve all been ignoring you, and that’s hardly professional either, is it?

i assume the number of survivors has gone down from nineteen, you say. or maybe they all have crippling brain damage? you can punish me however you want, but i don’t know how i could’ve done a better job and none of this would’ve happened if jack just let me do a hospital dump. you try and fail to not look resentful. i guess he considers it a virtue to be tightfisted with merchandise. 

linda eyes you like you’re somebody else’s misbehaving child. they’re not our merchandise, julie, they’re our customers. we provide services to people as well as goods. do you really want to know the details?

and there it is. you’ve never wanted to know the details. you’ve only ever wanted that one midnight hour of crisis in which the rest of the world falls away and your mind turns into a perfect beam of concentrated light. 

to be fair, you’ve also wanted a place to live, and for them to not kill you and drop you in the fucking river. you’re not in a position to request much more. 

no, you say. i just want to know if my patients are doing okay.

linda evades you with ease. you did very well, julie. that’s not what this is about. 

she knocks twice on a little doily-covered side table. alessandra glides in through the doorway and sets the tray of food down on the coffee table in front of you. the sitting room smells richly of eggs and butter, but you’re not at all hungry. you should be fast asleep right now.

to your surprise, alessandra sits in the other armchair. no more babies, she says, serenely, in italian. you weren’t expecting her to say anything at all, so you barely catch it. 

we would like you to administer an iud, says linda. and whatever fertility treatments you think might look convincing.

for fuck’s sake.

just so we’re on the same page, an iud would prevent any pregnancy, you say. a fertility treatment wouldn’t be able to overcome it. they’d be working at cross purposes, but essentially, the iud would win.

yes, says linda calmly. 

you’d really rather be fired than get caught up in some intra-family intrigue that you have no business touching. you ought to be getting extra hazard pay for the psychological warfare of it all.

and this fertility treatment should be convincing to who? you say, after a second.

an eastern method would be best, says linda. maybe herbal. 

okay, so that’s either old caruso or little caruso you’re trying to fool, or both. jack would never believe in an herbal treatment, he’d definitely demand pills. 

uh-huh, you say, looking over at alessandra. she looks perfectly serene. it’s unnerving. permission to speak frankly? it’s annoying, how the old jargon still pops up in you at odd stressful moments.

of course, linda says.

there really is no polite way to ask the question, but if there was, it might sound like this. 

activity has been lower than ever, even before little caruso went to the hospital. i don’t know why beth wasn’t available to help with the carbon monoxide thing, but that’s a bad sign, and i haven’t seen or heard from her since. the only sedatives they could scrounge up for me was some stuff meant for horses. the only good news we’ve had all year is that jack is out, and i haven’t heard shit from him, so he could be back in for all i know.

and now you’re pulling me into lies inside the family? you’re deceiving either your husband or your son, i don’t know which is worse. so when i ask you how bad it is, i would very much appreciate a truthful fucking response! 

just how bad are things right now? you say. it takes a huge effort to refrain from cursing, but you layer in all your meaning in that one simple question. 

linda’s blue eyes glint as she weighs her response, and then she says, things are going well, thank you for asking. there’s nothing else we need your help with. we’ll procure the iud and schedule an appropriate time for the procedure. are you able to procure the fertility treatment?

you hesitate, and her eyes bore into you like remorseless twin drills.

 yes, you say, defeated. it’s gonna be looseleaf tea, the cheapest you can find. 

do you have any more questions or concerns?

the fucking temerity of this woman. yes, actually. yes, at this point, you have become one gigantic, stress-filled ball of questions and concerns.

no, you say. 

thank you for coming. the car is waiting outside. 

in the car, you watch chicago passing by you, more brightly colorful and bustling than you’re used to, a different city. 

the dread is slowing to a numb simmer, as dread tends to do over time. of course linda would claim that everything is fine, what did you expect her to say? oh, you’re right, julie. the business has been going downhill for months. and now you, my people, my family, and my would-be grandchild—we’re all well and truly fucked.

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michael’s heartbeat is finally wearing itself out, depleting the last of its weapons grade chemical thunder. he’s pretending to be asleep, but there’s no lying to you like this. the body always tells. you’ve got one ear plastered to his sweat-damp chest, an unconventional but effective way to measure pulse. 

you’re pretending to be asleep too, curled up and using him as a pillow, eternally seeking his warmth. he’s got his hands behind his head and his head half a mile down the street. 

at last, his heartbeat has leveled out. that’s your job done. at times like these, you don’t feel like a woman. maybe you’re a weighted blanket, maybe you’re a pill. 

he lifts your head gently in one hand, then crawls out from under you. 

the bathroom door hinges creak. you hear a thin stream, a flush, and running water. his apartment is bigger than yours and only a couple floors up, but you’re not surprised that he chooses to use your bathroom over his. you get the sense that he avoids his own apartment as much as humanly possible, except to sleep. 

it’s stupid hot in your apartment, because your landlord considerately roasts all her tenants alive rather than let them freeze to death. still, you move over so you can soak up the warmth he left behind in the mattress, and you place your head where his left an indent on the pillow. 

you can hear his footsteps as he pads back towards the bed. probably left his phone behind, you think, and then the mattress dips under his weight, gravity trying to bring you together.

he’s warm against you, but no longer sweat-sticky. he must’ve toweled off in there. you’d like to turn over and worm your way into his arms, but that seems greedy, tacky, wrong. you can’t track if you’re still supposed to be asleep.

c’mere, he says. 

you’re barely touching him, but it still seems like you can feel his voice, throaty and a little rough, like it’s coming from inside your own chest. 

you turn over on your side, facing him, and lay your head down again just below his collarbone. this time, his hand descends on your hair and strokes in a slow rhythm, like how you would pet a beloved dog while thinking about the events of the day. this time, you don’t bother to close your eyes. 

the watery light coming in through your curtains turns everything blue. his stomach, the sheets, the far wall. there’s a small, uneven tattoo of a black rose above his hip. he’s never explained it to you before, but to be fair, you can’t remember if you’ve ever asked about it either.

you’d like to ask him what’s wrong. people aren’t kind without reason. but you’re greedy still, and you take what you’re given without question. 

it’s not so much the hand on your hair as it is the tenderness, it’s not so much the tenderness as it is the fact that he stayed. 

you’ve always believed he loves the woman he’s with when he’s inside her. that’s easy. endearments fall from his mouth like rain and you soak them up as silently desperate as the desert and just as willing to blossom, presumably just like all the rest. he says them like he means it. baby like he’ll care for you, honey like he’ll lick every drop off his lips and consider himself lucky. 

but he’s saying nothing now, he’s not fucking you now, he’s reached the end of his high, and still his hand moves tenderly over your hair. nobody caresses a pill or a blanket. you have proof. 

proof of what, you won’t think too hard about. his fingers brush the skin at your temple with every stroke.

you falls asleep before he does.

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it’s evening. you’re sitting in bed, still thrumming with caffeine and stress from linda, picking away at your last good memory with michael like it’s a scab, when you happen to look out the window and there he is. out of place in the light of dusk, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. the last thing you expected and the first thing you wanted to see. 

you’re out the door in a second. then, when you’re jabbing repeatedly at the elevator button, you realize you don’t have any shoes on. the deterrent isn’t the cold, it’s the knowledge that richie will roast you mercilessly, so you turn around and dart back inside your apartment and shove on your shoes. 

the deja vu is so overwhelming, it prevents you from feeling any relief. this sudden righting of the world, this crash of of course everything’s fine, it was all in your head, you’ve played this tune before, and the thing is: it never lasts. you can't keep going up and down forever, it’s making you sick of yourself. 

you grab your coat, your keys, and the note.

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[ chapter six ] [ masterlist ]

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note: this was meant to be combined with chapter six, but i had to split them because the final richie and reader scene got so long it turned into its own chapter. so i released both chapters on the same day <3

@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1, @eternallyvenus, @cerial-junkie, @jackierose902109 — if anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know.

[chaifootsteps]

‘Sup, Chai! Studio Anon back at it again at their ramblings- tonight I’m feeling spicy, so why not talk about that once couple Viv’s stans froth at the mouth over: Stolitz.

I never really understood much of the appeal. Like- the trope of the commoner and the royal are fun to mess with, but those couples could work if you set them on equal grounds. There’s already a clear power dynamic set with those, so either find a solid middle area where the two could connect (ex. A runaway prince meets a cunning thief, an exiled prince meets a hermit, etc.) but you could work with the boundaries the relationship has so long as you can develop it.

But, uh- exactly where is that in Stolitz?

Stolitz already starts with an abusive power dynamic (yknow, the whole deal with the full moon and all it gross details) and it doesn’t do much to remedy that after. Stolas is a high, rich asshole who uses his status to fuck with/generally just fuck Blitz and that’s it. We never get to hear how Stolas does anything else with him- but Viv wants us to believe they care about each other? How?

Like, a scene, a moment, a glance into what those two act like without the guise of sex. And no, Ozzie’s doesn’t count since Blitz only brought Stolas along to get into the club (which is pretty fucking weird, btw. it’s a sex club, why is it just for monogamous couples? not really my point but yeah that’s weird.) and Stolas wanted to get Blitz to fuck him after so. There’s that.

It generally would’ve been better if they played up the power imbalance to really sell a more mature theme. I’m pretty sure they wanted something darker, so why not reinforce that power imbalance? Instead of Stolas being this “uwu soft baby owl boy” we could play him up as being a prince of hell. He’s immortal, he’s likely had several heirs but they’ve all died out (he’s probably outlived them but because Octavia looks so much like him he could coddle her in a sick, narcissistic way.) and only wants some fun in his life out of his boring work (which we never really see in the show, so I never really understood his placement).

Then, comes in Blitz.

Blitz, a runaway from the circus and wanting to start a new life by doing the impossible (starting a business is unheard of by imp standards iirc) and needs the book to get it going. How did he hear of the book? Hell if I know. It just happens, and he ends up sleeping with Stolas and admitting to his consort-wife he fucked him.

Stella in this pseudo-rewrite would also have a lot going on for her.

She knows she’s just another consort in a long list of others that Stolas had only to keep with heirs, but she wants her life to be meaningful. She wants to be a good mother. She wants to have a good life. She wants that high status Stolas likes to abuse so much because she’s been abused herself, by Stolas. She’s an asshole, sure, but it’s not like Stolas cares. It’s a loveless marriage, I’m sure everyone knew that.

But to be publicly embarrassed that an imp wormed his way into their bed (and Stolas, just for his imp fetish and excitement keeps Blitz around) causes a meltdown.

Then Stolas starts to see his world crash and burn as his once “obedient and boring” wife divorces him and wants custody of the child he so “adores”, IMP perhaps getting into earthly trouble due to their sloppy kills or misuse of the grimoire, and the goetia family beginning to finally gain emotion and life as Stolas’ life goes upside down.

But he doesn’t ever blame himself. He blames Stella, blames the family- hell, probably even blames Blitz because he doesn’t care about him more than just sex.

And that’s the only thing he really has a grasp on.

His impish little plaything.

JUST. Just imagine if that’s what Stolitz was: an unhealthy display of power and obsession. I’ve recently found some enjoyment writing these sorts of messed up power dynamics (similar to what I’ve written above but it’s a lot messier) and it kills me that Viv shows us a rape deal and expects us to go, “Wow!!! Such cute and wholesome gays!!!!” Like that was normal.

Use what you have, Viv. Make it fucked up. If you didn’t want your uwu yaoi ship to be so toxic, maybe rewrite it?

also ngl Stolas and Blitz designs make them look like they’re from two different shows and generally look ugly to me so the amount of ship art I’ve seen of those two make me laugh. like pick an attractive couple to make fanart and fanchildren for jfc. it’s sad.

This is a great writeup. It's frustrating how little it would take to make these two interesting, to make them likeable, but Viv just...doesn't.

[mostlymaudlin]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers 💫

thank you @decaflondonfog for the tag !! ill tag @sillyunicorn @starwarned @urban-sith @tea-brigade

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

98!! (woah) plus an unrevealed t&n fest fic, so 99. wow i need to do something rly crazy for 100 lol. what if i do a ridiculous crossover of all my fandoms and everyone in the fandom tags will hate me. 

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

544,914. (again. woagh)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mostly all for the game and simon snow series, have dabbled in & posted even less for check please, captain america, and one direction! i feel like i’m missing something but regardless my fixations are hardcore, so all except like 4k of that posted wc is for either aftg or ss hahahha

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

all are andreil! boyfriend privileges (4k, T) / Trigger (62k, E) / flashes of intimacy (10k, t) / Would you still love me if I was a worm? (6k, T) / Inside Thoughts (1k,T)

man this is long, rest is going under the cut lol

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

not very often, but i wish i did. i am stricken with a combination of being really awkward when people are nice to me & being bad at interacting with anyone in ways i fear could be perceived as ingenuine. im not sure if that makes sense LMAO. and sometimes when i put a story out, i kind of feel like i’ve said my piece — i’ve put so much into it that i don’t really know what else to say!

anyway, i always reply to questions, because that’s got clear social boundaries hahaha, and i DO love talking abt my stories!! and sometimes i’ll reply to comments that really get me thinking. but yeah, i know i reply less than i could, and i want to like double down on the fact that i am endlessly grateful for everyone who has ever left a comment on my work <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i have killed simon snow twice lmfao. i’d actually classify icarus as rather hopeful — it’s about grief & healing. but legacies is just fucked up lmfao

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oh man, i write a lot of happy endings haha. i feel like even when my story is tonally darker (rare), it still has a happy or at least hopeful ending. this is probably not the correct answer, but i think sing of the moon has a really vividly happy ending. like — the sun rises for the first time in the whole fic! amazing. or maybe my high school au, We Can Live Forever, which is just the happiest thing i’ve ever written. 

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really, thankfully! people are smartasses sometimes but overall ive been lucky. there have been a couple of fics where ive winced before hitting post, but it usually ends up fine

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yessss. i guess i mostly write tender smut, bc i write tender things in general. i think my smut tends to be rather exploratory/playful as well? intentionally sloppy and awkward choreography hahaha

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

sort of LOL. once upon a time i was betaing @tea-brigade's medieval snowbaz au, Reliquary of an Arsonist, and there’s this part where three highway bandits mug simon and baz and then get blasted by simon’s chosen one magic. i am sick in the head so im in the google doc like “lol what if its kandreil.” and then i was like… what if it was kandreil….. and so i wrote Reliquary of a Bandit

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don’t think so

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!!! and i’m really thankful for everyone who has done so <3333 shoutout to russian aftg translators, yall go HARD

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i recently collaborated with @thewholelemon on our episode of Star Trek: Redemption, Heart-Shaped Box. by which i mean: i wrote the outline & a few scenes, got really overwhelmed, and jenny turned it into something worth reading! 

i also wrote Good Boy in the snowbaz stoner verse with @starwarned, which was rly fun — we sat in the google doc for like, 5 hours trading back and forth on POVs as we wrote pure porn together LOL. it’s funny to think about this, because lauren knows like everything abt me now but we did not know each other as well back then!!! and we were just like “yeah lets write porn together” hahahahha 

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

right now it is deeefinitely andreil… they are everything to me for reasons i just cannot possibly be brief about LOL so ill just leave it at that

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have a postcanon snowbaz time travel/time loop wip that i was going to try to write for COBB this year but i fucked up the deadlines then the brainrot was like “guess that means more andreil !”. i did SO MUCH research for it and i think it’s rather clever and smutty and fun bc they are yeeted back to watford era! but it’s also dealing with snowbaz, who are in their late 20s and are like in a relationship low point/actively fighting when they end up in the loop… so they are dealing with that tension at the same time as they are trying to get out of the loop. and also fucking around watford to fulfill fantasies HAHAHA

16. What are your writing strengths?

characterization is the thing i care most about! and i think that’s the draw of fanfic in particular to me — i love getting such a grasp on a character that i can translate them into endless situations while still making them feel true to self. i rarely let myself publish anything until i can read through the whole thing without any he would not fucking say that moments hahahha. this is of course pertaining to my own interpretations of the characters, which is the only thing i care abt lmfao

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i rely a lot on body language because im always writing abt reticent fuckers who cant use their words. but i think i sometimes overcompensate, or describe actions that don't actually fit the scene. i've seen this described as "cheek-biting" -- like, throwing in action during a conversation just to delay the pacing/further the tone, but when you really look at it, it's not necessary. (cheek-biting being like, "character bites at their cheek" in the middle of a tense conversation)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don’t really know any other languages! i think i’ve put a little bit of french in neil/kevin/baz POVs before, but my french knowledge is elementary at best. love the idea of it though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

one direction babyyyyyyyy !! i wrote quite a bit of it in like 2012-2015 but published very little. there’s 1 on my ao3, some lost somewhere on fanfiction.net (i dont rmr my username lol), and tons in my folders from my old laptop lol.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

hmmmmm. im gonna cheat bc i cant pick a single favorite. i always say i think No Turning Back is some of my best writing from a craft standpoint, and it also includes my favorite type of conflict (andrew self-destructing lol). however, i reread both that fic & We Can Live Forever on a plane trip recently after not having touched either for 6+ months — and the solidness of We Can Live Forever actually surprised me, especially because i wrote the majority of that fic while i was stoned and also view it as just exceedingly silly. the world of it is just very rich, and also very very different from the typical character backstories, and i’m very proud of how much that reread played with my heartstrings.  

ok last one — there are several installments of my flashes of intimacy series that i come back to a lot, because i’m proud of what they each accomplish in 500 words. especially because i often turn to those when im trying to express my own emotions lol. specifically, my favorites are picking fights, i don’t mind, swimming lessons, and practicing gratitude.

that was such a bullshit and cocky way to answer this lmfaooooo. but tbh i am my own biggest fan and that is by design — i write stuff so that i can reread it months later and have it be perfectly catered to my tastes. i love all my fics <3

[eddieschains]

My brain just cooked up a lil scenario and i thought you'd appreciate it...

Just imagine you sitting watching the Stranger Things finale with Joe, absolutely sobbing over Eddie.

"You prick! Why didn't you tell me Eddie dies?!" You wail and Joe laughs.

"Cos I didn't want to break your heart like that, I know how much you love him, babe." He'd chuckle

"God why can't you play a character that actually lives?! Or at least gets a happy ending?!"

He'd shoot you a cheeky smirk.

"...you can give me a happy ending if you like."

the way i can see him saying this did things to me that i can’t explain

also i purposely didn’t write abt eddie’s death in detail or anything like that because i don’t want to re-traumatize myself 😭😭

TW// 18+, rpf (don’t like it, don’t read it), oral (m receiving), masturbation (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dacryphillia, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

“That’s how it ends?!” You shout at Joe through muffled sobs. You were watching season 4 together and tonight was the finale. He didn’t warn you that Eddie was going to die, but he never warned you when he died.

“And you!” You turn to him shoving your finger into his chest. “You didn’t tell me you were going to die!”

He chuckles lightly, finding it funny but also not realizing how upset it was going to make you. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t want to spoil it for you.” He places a kiss to your forehead. “And I know how much you love Eddie, I didn’t want to upset you.”

“So you thought it’d be better to just let me suffer through watching you die? Again?!” You stand up to grab a tissue from the bathroom. “Why can’t you play a happy role for once? Maybe live through the end of the season or at least have some kind of happy ending.”

“Why don’t you come over here and give me a happy ending?” He proposes, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Did that seriously turn you on? I’m crying for christ’s sake!” You step back into the bedroom to see his bulge poking through his sweatpants, making your heart beat a little faster.

“You look so pretty when you cry.” He says, bringing his hand down to his pants to rub himself through them.

“You sick fuck.” You laugh before pouncing on top of him.

You place both of your legs on either side of him, trapping him under your body. His hand immediately reaches for the back of your neck pulling you down to him. Once your lips meet, it’s game on. The kiss is passionate, yet sloppy. Neither of you caring about anything other than feeling each other.

You start to grind your hips into him, a small moan escaping his mouth. You take the opportunity to slip your tongue inside, dancing with his and relishing in his taste.

“Why don’t we take these off, huh?” You pull away, reaching for the waistband of his sweats. He nods furiously as you scoot your body towards the end of the bed.

You slowly pull his pants down, keeping eye contact with him the whole time. You slip them down his feet and throw them on to the ground.

“Hey little guy.” You say, finally looking at his hard cock sprung into the air.

“Little?!” Joe says, making you laugh. You pull yourself up to him for one more kiss before sinking back down.

You always thought he had the prettiest cock. It was big, really big. Big enough that you didn’t know how it would fit the first time you had sex. But, you still liked to poke a little fun at Joe from time to time just to make him sweat.

Your mouth watered just looking at it. You spit into your hand before using the palm to rub just over his tip, making him jump up at your touch.

“Fuck babe. Careful, he’s sensitive.” You smile, before dragging your hand down the length of his cock. You moan at the feeling of him in your hand, always in awe of how you could never wrap it all the way around.

You continue pumping him, as you focus on the tip of his cock. Alternating between soft kisses and kitten licks across his slit. He’s groaning and bucking his hips up towards your mouth, begging for more. You open your mouth as he bucks up one more time, slipping it past your lips.

You hollow your cheeks as you take him in your mouth, feeling every ridge against your tongue. One of your hands continues to pump the excess that doesn’t fit in your mouth, while the other pays attention to his balls. Rubbing and squeezing just the way he likes.

“Yeah baby, just like that. Take my cock so fucking good.” Joe moans, before tangling his fingers into your hair. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding your head as you suck him. Your tongue is swirling around his tip while he’s in your mouth, making him twitch. “Shit baby, if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum in your pretty little mouth.”

You remove your mouth to breathe for a moment, while continuing to pump him with your hand. “What if that’s my goal?”

“No I need to be inside of you. Need to fill that pretty pussy with my cum.” You take him back into your mouth as he shimmies your panties off of you. “Why don’t you play with yourself to get her ready for me?”

You do as he says, reaching your hand down to your cunt. You didn’t need much preparing considering you soaked your fingers with a single touch. You slide a finger through your folds before bringing it back up to your clit. You begin to rub circles around your button while continuing to suck and pull him into your mouth.

The touch of your fingers on your clit mixed with Joes cock in your mouth makes you whimper and moan, sending vibrations through Joes body. “Jesus. I need to be inside you right now.”

You pull your mouth off of him, as he grabs your hips and flips you on to your back. His finger slides up and down your slick, before pushing into you. “Fuck.” You moan out, reaching for his cock again, moving your hand up and down while he fucks his finger inside of you.

“God she’s so wet for me baby. Gonna destroy her.” He moans out, before removing his finger. You remove your hand from him as well, as he replaces it with his own. He drags his cock along your wet pussy before slapping it against your clit a few times, making you whimper.

“Don’t tease, Joe.” He smiles, taking his cock and sliding it all the way inside of you. Both of you moaning in unison. He pulls out slightly, before pushing back in.

His thrusts start soft and slow, almost at an unbearable rate. You take the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer into you.

“Jesus babe, I was warming you up.” He chuckles.

“Don’t. Just fuck me Joe. Thought you said you were gonna destroy me?” You say condescendingly. You see the flip switch in his eyes, and before you know it, he’s flipping your legs over his shoulders and pounding into you at an inhumane rate. “Fuck! Yes! Just like that baby, don’t stop. Oh my god don’t stop!”

He has your feet hung over his shoulders, and his hands gripped around your thighs. His thrusts are rapid, while continuing a perfect rhythm. Your hands reach for the headboard for leverage, as you cry out his name, feeling a tear escape from the immense pleasure he’s giving you.

“See? Look so pretty when you cry. Crying all over my cock hmm? You can take it baby. Go on, take it.” He growls above you, pushing in and out of you before reaching his thumb to your clit.

His thumb draws rapid circles around your clit, while he continues to fuck into you. “Oh my god Joe. Please please please.”

“Please what baby? Good girls use their words.” He teases, not letting up on his movements.

“Please im gonna- FUCK!” You scream as you feel the wave of pleasure rush over you.

“That’s it baby, good girl. Good fucking girl.” He grabs ahold of your shaking legs and bends them towards your chest. He uses the backs of your thighs for grip and he fucks into you with no pattern, just trying to reach his own orgasm. “You gonna let me cum in your pretty pussy, baby? Gonna let me fill her up?”

“Yes yes please cum in me. Cum in me baby I need it.” Your eyes are still watering, taking in the pain and pleasure of Joes overstimulation on your cunt. He thrusts a few more times before slamming into you, halting his movements. A moan of your name falls from his mouth as you feel the hot liquid pooling inside of you.

He stays inside for a moment, catching his breathing before slowly pulling out. His cum drips out with his cock, running down your ass as he stares in awe. “Shit baby, you’re amazing you know that?”

He grabs a towel to clean you up, peppering kisses all over your face as you try to regain your strength.

“I love you.” You say, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love you too darling.”

“Just don’t die on me again please.”

He chuckles, pulling you into his chest. “No promises.”

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

From A Storm Comes Blood -- MOON 2

First

Previous

=================

“Minnowfur! I can’t breathe!” Gladekit wailed. Her father ran a soothing paw along her back.

“You can breathe,” he assured her. “It’s just a runny nose is all. Open your mouth.”

Gladekit did as told, emitting dramatic breaths.

Minnowfur held back a purr as he searched for the right herbs. He found them and set them by her paws. “Swallow these, little one.”

Gladekit stuck her tongue out. “They’re gross!” 

“It’ll make your nose better,” Minnowfur promised. That was enough to get Gladekit to lap them up, though hesitantly and only after a few more seconds of eyeing them suspiciously. 

Dovewave poked his head into the den. “How’s the little one?” he asked. Flintkit was with him, and he bounded into the den and stopped at Gladekit’s side. “Gladekit! Gladekit! Let’s play leader and deputy!”

Gladekit smiled, gross herbs forgotten. “Can I be leader?”

Flintkit frowned. 

Gladekit glared at him. “You’re always leader!”

“Because I’m older!”

“How do you know?”

“I was named first!”

Minnowfur shook his head. “How do they manage to fight, even when sick?”

=====================

--Writing a short story for each moon is new to me so it may seem a bit sloppy sometimes. Plus not every moon is important, so the end might not seem so cliffhangy.

--Prompts:

----Flintkit wanted to play leader and deputy until Gladekit wanted to be leader, then brought up being older.

----Gladekit has a runny nose.

[borifle]

went fully insane just now watching the new ahsoka.

frustrated shouts at the tv asking dave what the FUCK is happening. (also where the fuck!!! is zeb (and kallus?) when all this is happening!!!!!) crying over ahsoka even though rosario dawson brings fucking Nothing to the role with her milquetoast performance, but even if she fails to deliver I keep getting hopelessly emotional because the writing is still there and good. screaming when the hallmarks of rebels and tcw show up on screen (purgil, spinny lightsabers, nightsister magic, THE WORLD BETWEEN WORLDS) and then saying ‘I’m so okay and normal about this’ while being so clearly not okay and normal.

jacen getting in baby’s first “I’ve got a bad feeling about this” and me telling him to shut up no he does NOT everything is FINE. listening to the end credits medley and telling my spouse I hope kevin kiner gets the nastiest sloppy toppy for his contributions to star wars music. hayden christensen walking onto the scene as force ghost anakin and making me cry on command with a couple of lines. my spouse asking if I’m okay and I answer, distraught and embarrassed about it, that of course I’m not because these are my BLORBOS.

I’m really truly sick in the head and I blame dave filoni for all of it.

[paperstarwriters]

People don't often interact with my #just thinking posts so Idk if people ever see it at all, but even then, I wanna throw this out there and just keep myself accountable.

Warning for Anxieties, implied suicidal ideation, academic stress

This is a post about some of my current struggles, I'm not talking about that in depth—the main point is more hopeful I think—but the topic is there.

there's been this song I've been listening on loop to recently; Look at the Sky by Porter Robinson. It's really sweet, and really nice and alongside, Something Comforting, Get Your Wish, and You are Enough (which, unlike the others is by Sleeping at last) it's a really uplifting and encouraging set of songs that has helped me out a lot in encouraging me through my studies.

As the semester comes to an end however, the stress continues to build and grow and with it, my panic and fear.

I have no official diagnoses, but I know well enough that there's something askew in there. A little tender part that's vulnerable to failure and stress and so many other things.

And this is why I just keep coming back to Look at the Sky.

It's the chorus.

Look at the sky, I’m still here I’ll be alive next year I can make something good, oh Something good

It reads like a promise to me. Mainly because of the second line.

I'll be alive next year.

I'll keep myself here, today so I can make it to next year.

Idk. Porter Robinson mentions how it's about the creative cycle of taking in other people's work to create a new tapestry of creativity, but I always linger on this song for my studies rather than any of my creative writing.

I'm not very good at what I'm studying at, and I can't help but associate my talent in the field with how much I should like it. The study is interesting, and when I'm not constantly worrying about failing projects or failing quizzes or failing exams, the content is fascinating and fun to learn.

But I don't do well on the assignments.

I'm not failing. I'm not so horribly behind on all my assignments that I know that I'll fail or something, but I can't help but feel the need to get at least 90% on everything. It's fear driven I think. My parents wanted that of me when I was a child. the sentiment continues to linger on in me.

I didn't do so great on a single assignment this time. It's for a project—one I need to complete in order to pass the class at all. But I messed up on the formatting and I left a few tails undone at the end. It was incredibly rushed and a miracle that I had it finished at all, but I still can't help the sickening feeling that I should have done better. Even if I was staying up way past what was healthy for me, something that would cause me general dizziness and heavy sickness later on in the day, I still felt like I should have exerted myself more to check up on it and get it nice and pretty and polished.

I haven't gotten my grade back for that assignment yet. and I can't help but feel sick thinking about it.

I know that logically, the portion of my grade that would be affected might be pretty small, and I've done pretty well in the rest of my assignments. I'll probably be able to pass the class.

Still I can't help the feeling that If I don't do perfect on every single assignment, I will fail.

I have to hand in a physical copy of the assignment tomorrow, I felt so sick going back over my digital copy— forced to look at all of my sloppy and messy mistakes. I felt fear looking at it.

I felt a lot of things, really. Nasty, dark and irrational things.

But...

I'm still here.

I'll continue to try and be here tomorrow too. And the day after that. I'll make it to next year.

And even if I don't do great in that class, I can still make it to the degree I want. It'll take a little stress and struggle, but I'll get there eventually.

And until then, I can still make good things—I can write the little stories, and one shots and fanfics that make me happy.

Look at the sky, I’m still here I’ll be alive next year I can make something good, oh Something good

I promise.

[tetzoro]

MY PRECIOUS LIL AIMSIES !! oh my gosh, forgive me for being 2 weeks late with this response !! T^T HOW ARE YOU DOING ?? i’m getting cozy and comfy while i write this because WAHHH I MISSED YOU SO MUCH !! </3 please take this zoro edit i found as a token of my apologies SOB </3

https://www.instagram.com/p/C6Pr4bYKKDj/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

EEEP i’m so glad that you’ve been doing well !! i’ve been seeing you all active and happy and that’s making me happy because !! you are a blossoming flower in this newfound season and it brightens my day to see you living life to the fullest <3 im doing good teehee !! i’ve been staying up far too late and working loads but </3 i power through WOOHOO !! <3

OMG PLZ thank tou for linking that ADORABLE fic !! i’ve been searching far and wide for more bokuto fics and i have finally been fed with one of our favorite dates of all things too !! YIPEEE !! pls tell your mootie that i said they are a true blessing to me </3 i really needed that CUTENESS SOB !! T^T oh kou… that silly man. i swear sometimes when we get icecream im on the brink of gagging because he’ll mix the most randomest flavors ever like NO !! WHY IS THERE PEANUT BUTTER AND BUBBLE GUM IN THE SAME CUP !! T^T but that’s only sometimes, he usually likes to get strawberry and i get vanilla !! ( i steal bites of his because i cant help myself </3 ) what’s your favorite ice cream flavor ?? I MUST KNOW !! >.<

TEEHEE STOP !! i’ll cry right now SOB T^T you are too sweet im giggling !! you make me feel so warm and welcomed and i cant help but feel giddy every time i come scrolling through your adorable lil bloggie <3 ILY ILY ILY AIMS !!

HELP KUROO AND BOKUTO CATOSONAS !! kuroo better show me that doodle or else… 💪🤜👊😾 it’s on !! but for real he so is a ragdoll, tinky is the fluffiest kitty ever !! ooo if i was a cat, i’d probably be a fluffy orange cat or calico !! i have a hard time choosing too so that’s just one i think might suit me >.< OOO if you were a cat, i think you’d be a pretty long haired brown tabby :3 those cats are soso pretty JUST LIKE YOU !! <3

THE BEACH YOU SAY ?!?! THAT SOUNDS LIKE SOSOSO MUCH FUN !! oh goodness, kuroo should know better than anyone that he should be wearing sunscreen !! that silly guy T^T im glad you kissed it better !! be careful though, he might not wear it on purpose just to get you to kiss him again !! so sneaky </3 do either of you burn easily ?? kou… burns like a tomato T^T he gets so red it’s honestly comedic and sometimes his friends will slap him on the back and he’ll just sit there eye twitching in sunburning pain … atsumu really enjoys seeing that apparently sigh. but !! it turns into a really nice tan and he looks up looking absolutely delicious in the end >:3

PLSPLSPLS YES !! it’s always the loud sloppy “ MMMMWUAH !!” sounds over and over again <3 he is so silly i swear !! you were right on the money, kou is such a physical touch guy and loves making me feel loved with all of the ways he shows his affection SOB !! i’m so obsessed with him, my affectionate adorable tinky !!

YESSS FELLOW FOODIE YIPEEE YIPEEE !! kuroo already knowing the drill is so sweet :,) his wallet is already pulling his money out while u look at the menu HELP !! ooo does he sometimes get silly and insist on feeding you ?? he seems like such a playful guy !! i could imagine him picking up the spoon and looking at you with softened eyes while he watches you enjoy your yummy snack <333 you guys are too cute !! T^T

WAHHH TEEHEE YES !! the soup was very delicious >.< and the flowers were soso pretty i could feel my sickness withering away with every look i had at them :( he is too sweet for this world i swear !! the confession was the cherry on top i swear if i hadn’t been sick i would’ve tackled him to the floor and smooched him all over SOB !!! </3

PLS kuroo and romcoms is such a lovely combo to think about !! him acting all stoic like “i would never cry over a romance that would be a bit dramatic” and then you look over during the sappy ending and his eyes are flooded with tears !! HE’S A SOFTY CONFIRMED !! omg you’re so right, he does seem like a marvel and star wars type of guy !! do you think he owns any of the lego sets and has them in his office at home ?? or what does he have in there ?? YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE !! kuromy my otp, my beloveds <333

EEEP TINKY TIME WOOHOOOO !! oh my gosh, this was actually such a good question i have never thought about that !! i could choose from so many, but im going to be silly right now and choose a cowboy au MWUAHAHA >:3 because cowboy bokuto does things to me that i can’t say on the internet *takes lasso out*. um.. pls anyway !! but cowboy au’s are always so much fun !! i feel like it would be so cool to live in a little house on the prairie while i take care of the horses and we go on horse rides frolicking through the tall grass and all that !! >.< imagining meeting him and he’s all like “ who’s this mysterious girl that appeared out of no where” and at first we’re both wary of eachother, then he saves me when the bad guys come with that yummy lasso and then kiss kiss fall in love… yes <3 i am in over my head here but there are just so many to choose from !!

ooo aimsies guess what… KUROMY QUESTION TIME !! MY FAVORITE !! :3 if you could pick any shojo anime to live in with kuroo, which would it be ?? ( im not sure if you have watched any shojo, so if you haven’t, you can pick any anime at all instead !! ) I MUST KNOW !!

EEEEP ily SOSO much aimsies and im hoping this ask finds you well <3 giving you so many smoochies and wishing you all the best !! sending you an invite to me and kou’s lil backyard bbq next week, u and kuroo can come and play around with sparklers with us and joke around with friends !! ILY ILY ILY SOB <3

- :3

EEE OMG :3 !! ! ! ! i am squeezing u SO TIGHT ! i’ve missed you sm :’) im ngl i read this the second you sent it to me, tearing into it like a lil letter and reading each and every word <3 it’s like we’re lil pen pals, yknow? i cherish u sm and im so happy to chat with u !! always !! and the zoro edit .. 😋🫶 so scrumptious , thank u for sharing it with me omgee ! my goal is to get u to watch one piece on day btw …

i’ve been doing okay <3 today was kind of rough >_< BUT !!!!! the fact i will be seeing kuroo (& ur tinky) on the big screen in two days is getting me through it all! how have you been doing !!! you excited for the movie ??? i hope you get to rest from work soon <33 u deserve to relax !!!

and OFC !!! i’m so so happy you enjoyed it hehe my fave ice cream is mint chocolate chip tho !!! bokuto fics are hard to come by these days :( omg … i kinda wanna write you one now 🫣 let me cook …

PLS FHDJDJ kuroo is running around frantically looking for the doodles , he’ll be reporting back with them soon !! he promises !! omg orange kitty or calico is so so cute :’) i can def see the vibes and can picture kitty!you next to kitty tinky eheheh and EEEP A BROWN TABBY !! i love brown kitties, they’re one of my faves !!

kuroo wil prob get burned at the beach all summer sob (same tho) but i will do my best and ease each one with a kiss !! as long as he does the same :’) NOT TSUMU SMACKING BOKUTOS BURN FJDJDJDJDJ fights him !!!

kuroo def likes to feed me every once in awhile :’) sometimes he takes it seriously and other times he just does it as an excuse to smear frosting or sugar or wtvr it is across my lips just so he can kiss it off >_< he’s very sweet about it tho hehehe

sob you and bokuto are so dear to me T^T in every lifetime !! every au !! every meet cute !! i am here cheering you both on !!! i’m your biggest fan :( i love that he takes care of you from the start, you deserve that hehe he’d make sure you took lots of breaks and such to make sure you don’t get sick again !!

tetsu is such a lil softy teehehe its so cute to catch him in the act. when we first started dating he tried sooo hard not to cry lol but deep down he just loves love so much that he can’t help but get emotional at the end of the movie when the couple prevails and end up happily ever after !! its secretly all he’s wanted and little did he know i was going to give it to him :3

COWBOY BOKUTO OH MY GOD . hed be such a lil rascal heheh PLS THE LASSO !!! i see u 🤭🤭 catch ur cowboy !!!!! after he saves you, he walks up to you, taking off his hat and placing it on his chest as he gives you a little bow. he’s so flustered as he checks in on you, asking if you’re alright with pink cheeks. GAAAAHH !!! such a cute lil gentleman who looks after you and protects you day & night !!!

omg i’ve seen a few shojo anime !! im not gonna lie — i once watched one called “say i love you” bc the main guy gave me kuroo vibes with his hair BAHAHHAA also idk if this counts as a shojo but wotakoi : love is hard for otaku is my FAVORITE romance anime and i see me & tetsu in it so much :’) idk we’d def have that office au romance ofc heheh so it’s fun to imagine !! there’s one guy in there that reminds me of tetsu & im so smitten with him .

YOU AND TINKY TIME ! ! do you guys have any pets together? if so, what kinds? if not, would you guys ever get one together ?? i gotta know !!!!

eeeep !! beloved :3 !! i hope you’re doing well and i can’t wait for the next time we chat bc we may be able to discuss the haikyuu movie !! AAAA !! smooching u sm and tetsu and i will be seeing you at the bbq omg !! can’t wait <333

[lostgirl1428]

I’m. Fucking. Annoyed

—-

Now correct me if I’m wrong but the writers are on strike due to concerns with AI and unfair wages correct?

The actors are on strike due to conflicts with streaming services, and also concerns over AI…right? I could be totally wrong but I’m boutta rant about AI regardless, otherwise I’ll stay in my lane here.

Technology is developing so much faster than our society and economy is able to adapt to it.

I won’t bore you with the shit pretty much everyone already knows; which is basically that Capitalism and an AI/Technology based work force do NOT mesh well.

We expected this to happen with modern work force jobs. Technology replacing people. Don’t get me wrong though, technology is GREAT, it’s efficient, amazing, but also FUCKING TERRIFYING, especially for a capitalist society (and don’t even get me started with how much I despise capitalism 🤦🏻‍♀️)

It was only a matter of time before AI and technology effected the arts. Writing with AI was unfortunately, not a surprise, but it also brings up a lot of questions about plagiarism laws for starters. Also studios don’t realize you cannot replace the human component that is the creativity of these writers. AI is sloppy as hell with being able to project emotion. Is it cheaper? Sure. But big studios like Disney make more than enough money to pay their writers fair wages and stop threatening to replace them with artificial bullshit.

Idk where the fuck I was going with this. I’m just ANGRY.

Point is the arts, all of them; preforming arts, fine arts, film & photography, etc. Cannot be replaced by AI, it’s such a human based field. Fuck if it weren’t already hard enough for writers and artists to begin with. It needs to be recognized that creatives cannot be replaced.

And maybe I’m being petty because I’m impatient as fuck and want more Marvel content, but I’m not impatient to the point where I wouldn’t be supporting this strike through and through. All artists should be standing behind this. That goes for the fans and movie/tv lovers too.

I mean shit, you’d think people have made it loud and clear that we’re sick of seeing recycled shit over and over again. I haven’t seen an original movie in AGES. The only movies and tv shows I even watch anymore and comic based, and even then ITS RECYCLED MATERIAL. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love it; for the most part I mean, I will still throw a fit over certain comparisons to the comics.

But genuine question, when’s the last time you saw a DECENT movie that wasn’t a reboot, sequel, or based on history or any other already existing materials? Because I can’t think of a damn one, and lets be clear, that’s of not fault of the writers. This is all on the big studios. There are PLENTY of writers out there coming out with original content that never unfortunately will never get green lit.

Studios think money first. If there’s a preexisting audience, they’ll make money, no matter how shitty the film ends up being.

IDK HOW THIS RANT ENDED UP HERE….but I’m annoyed. Feel free to bitch about the threats of AI and corporate America on creative industry with me.

I want to make it clear though that my problem will always remain with the higher ups and corporate America, the big studios are the ones at fault here and no one else.

Also note I said BIG studios. From my understanding there are some well known and indie studios out there that actually give a fuck and are doing right by their creative teams, those are not being targeted in the current strike.

I’m not going to proof read this, fuck it. Consider it a journal entry or some shit…it’s a rant, feel free to join in!

[marce-mallow]

Marcemallow’s Writing Prompts 001 (aka stories i want to read but not write)

Starting on February 4th, a girl receives a note reading ‘You looked so beautiful today <3.’ (or some other sappy love note) tied around a black rose on her doorstep.

With no name attached, she asks around at her school/work to see if anyone knows who wrote it, but no one admits.

She sets the rose in a vase and heads to bed.

The next day, another rose is left on her doorstep, another sweet message left for her.

The days go by, and every morning when she leaves for the day, she brings the black rose into her home and adds it to the vase, falling more and more in love with her secret admirer everyday.

Until February 13th, the day before the day of eating chocolate you bought for yourself and watching crappy rom-coms.

Instead of a letter probably stolen from a Conversation Heart, ‘Will you be my Valentine? Yes No’ is written on the note.

The girl circles Yes and leaves the rose out for the (hopefully not a) stranger to find.

Sometime late at night, the girl is wide awake, unable to sleep. Anxious to see who it is, she heads to her neighbors’, who’s more than a little pissed for being woken at 3:00 in the morning.

Still, she shows her the security cameras. She speeds it up until 4:50 am, when a ghostly figure enters the screen.

Her heart speeds up. It’s not who, it’s a what.

The thing was wearing a black, withered gown, a hood hiding what looked like at empty face devoid of a face. The only features were two glowing red eyes that seemed to bore right into her soul from the screen.

Her neighbor, in pure terror, recognizes it.

She tells her the urban legend of the Secret Admirer (that took literally two seconds to come up with).

It’s a demon that gives young and beautiful ladies black roses and love notes everyday leading up to Valentine’s Day Eve, when he asks them to be his Valentine. When they accept, the women unknowingly agrees to give full possession of their body to this creature, allowing him to take a human form all the way until February 4th, where he seeks to find a new vessel.

She asks the girl if she said no, but with one looks she can tell.

She already said yes.